


The Dollhouse

by FanFicReader01



Category: Poets of the Fall
Genre: Body Horror, Dolls, M/M, Mindfuck, dollmaker - Freeform, macaber, mansions, sorts of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 05:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14157966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: Olli, a troubled young man who finds no passion, except in making almost life like dolls. A lone wolf, just living his empty existence.





	1. Arrival of the Birds

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story in February or smth and writing just goes really slow lately or not at all.  
> But yay, found some writing motivation again so here aer the first chapters of a short story :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title's from a music piece.

There once lived a young man in a large mansion which was a tad too big compared to his small frame.  
The man could easily say he could have anything he wanted and his caretakers would provide it. Even with them out of the picture, the young man could afford everything that had a price: books, clothes, multiple cars, the newest tech, maybe a whole estate, dolls…

It was especially the latter thing that took his great interest. Somehow the young man had always been fascinated by these toys. Even when he was still a boy, he adored to play with all kinds of dollies: plastic barbies, ragdolls, porcelain puppets, ball jointed figurines, you name it.

His obsession led him to make a living out of these childhood ‘toys’. Note that he regarded dolls as a pure form of art instead of merely some toys for kids to enjoy themselves with.  
So the young man followed classes, observed other masters until he became a master in dollmaking himself. Since he was already rich to begin with, his wealth only grew together with his fame. He became a renown artist in the whole wide country and even beyond those borders.

But there was something else that grew with all that fame and recognition. It was solitude.  
That abyssal loneliness also took more and more space in his heart and his mind and his mansion. Despite being surrounded by many new servants, helpers, other staff members and countless dolls in almost every corner of the mansion, Olli felt incredibly lonely. And not just because he liked to retreat to his, surprisingly humble atelier where he’d spend most of his waking hours doing what he loved most: creating dolls.

Yes, there was one thing in his life that Olli couldn’t buy nor make and that was a companion, a friend, maybe even a lover.


	2. The Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title's from one of Agnes Obel's hauntingly beautiful songs.

A gentle hand stirred the madman awake. Slightly confused Olli sat up and took in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed wasn’t the big mess but the obvious absence of his beloved dolls. Next he saw his trembling hands dirtied by clay and… blood?

When Olli looked up, someone was looking at him. Clear blue skies were reflected in the eyes of a man. A clear sky. That meant the storm had passed, right? It made Olli relax a little. Then his gaze rested upon the other man again. Blood covered his left eye. The dollmaker wondered if he did that. When he inspected the stranger up closely, he noticed something interesting. It was one of his full-sized dolls. It came alive!

 

“You’re even more beautiful alive than my most vivid imagination!” the artist stammered in awe as he tried to touch the doll’s cheek. The stubble, which had been painted, felt _real_ now. The doll tried to speak up, but yarn had sewn its lips ceiled.

 “Oh, where are my manners?! Let me free you of those constraints!” Olli quickly searched for the right tools and then cut the threads that kept the doll’s mouth shut.

 

“Feeling better?”

 “Yes, thank you. May I ask you what your name is? I mean, you are my creator, right?”

“That’s correct. My name is Olli, pleased to meet you! Then tell me, dear, what’s _your_ name?”

 “Do I even have a name?”

“Not exactly, I guess. So you can pick one yourself.”


	3. Dorian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another song from Agnes Obel which inspired me to write this story

Olli was twirling and twirling, the hands of his darling in his own. Jani’s giving him a smile so bright, the dollmaker wondered why the man’s face hadn’t cracked yet.

 “I will love you forever.”

“I will love you back.”

 “Forever.”

“Together.”

 

And the two kept dancing, swaying over the floor, light-footed and forgetting about the world around them. There was no sense of time, no sense of ageing.

Yet, such glamour doesn’t last forever. One moment and it could all be over. One second and the fairy tale could fall apart. And that’s what happened.

 

The dollmaker didn’t know how it happened but it happened. Suddenly his clouded mind got interrupted by the harsh sound of porcelain shards clattering to the floor.

When Olli looked down he saw his doll, he saw Jani shattered and broken beyond repair. The artist’s hands were bleeding. Blood of his own, blood of him. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His throat got sore from the screaming and uncontrollably weeping.

 

\--

 

After the initial loss of his beloved doll, Olli put himself back in his worker’s chair. He decided to repair the man he had lost to the awful marble floor. The young man, who was once again, alone began to work overtime anew.

 “Sleep is for the wicked,” he often muttered to himself as he was drowsing off behind his desk.

Yet, he didn’t want to stop. He had to finish this project, repair Jani. He didn’t know if he could live without the other guy ever again.

 

For the first time in his life, Olli had experienced the _romantic_ affection of another soul. Well… the dollmaker was pretty sure his doll must’ve possessed something like that or else he wouldn’t have lived. Otherwise, Jani wouldn’t have _loved_ , _felt_ and _experienced_ those human emotions during his short time on earth. And now Olli had to make it right, even if it might’ve cost his own life and sanity. But Olli didn’t want to go back to the old, loveless days. No, he had crossed a point and now he couldn’t return. He could only go forward even if that meant his own destruction.


	4. Transformation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrival of the Birds & Transformation: look it up on youtube and be mesmerized!

There once lived a young man in a large mansion, too big compared to his small frame.

The man could easily say he could have anything he wanted and his caretakers would provide it. Even they died, the young man could afford everything he wanted: books, clothes, the newest tech, a whole estate, dolls… and maybe even love.

 Olli found love in the dolls he created.

He found love in Jani, his personal masterpiece.

 

But all of a sudden, the famous dollmaker disappeared. No one knew where he went. There was no evidence, no note or announcement. Even the staff members left, not knowing where their master went. And since Olli had never been really cared about by those who surrounded him, no one really bothered looking for him.

And so the mansion became shrouded in even more mystery. It almost laid forgotten until a small group of wannabe investigators took it upon them to explore the now abandoned mansion.

 

“Dust, dust everywhere!”

 “Investigator Kaarlonen, remember to look for Tukiainen!”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Salminen!”

 “Speaking of dust everywhere, there are also dolls everywhere!” a taller man said.

“Exactly. But what did you expect to find in a _dollmaker’s_ home? However, it also creeps me out nonetheless!”

 

Salminen, Kaarlonen and Mäkinen thoroughly searched the entire mansion until they regrouped at the atelier of the missing artist.

 “Looks like he left in a hurry,” investigator Kaarlonen muttered.

“Suspicious, there’s blood here and there, yet we only find craft tools and no bodies,” investigator Mäkinen noticed. His eyes trailed over the ‘crime scene’ and rested on one of the shelves above the workshop.

He poked his co-workers and pointed.

 “Have you ever seen such a disturbing yet beautiful sight?” investigator Salminen frowned.

On the highest shelf two rather large dolls sat together. Their heads rested against each other. One of them seemed broken but glued together with utmost care, truly the work of a master for no ordinary dollmaker would manage to fix a doll which had been shattered into millions of pieces. The other also seemed to be broken but in a different way. Blood stains were splattered across their chests. The hands of the dolls were literally sewn together.

 “Their eyes looks so sad,” Kaarlonen remarked.

“But somehow hopeful and at peace,” investigator Salminen sighed.

 “It freaks me out the longer I stare at them,” Mäkinen snorted.

 

\--

 

“So what are we going to do? We didn’t find a darn clue of Tukiainen!”

 “I’d say we burn it to the ground.”

“What? Are you serious?”

 “Yes. I don’t know how to say it but this mansion has an eerie atmosphere and I don’t like one bit,” investigator Mäkinen huffed agitated.

 “What if Tukiainen’s ghost comes back to haunt us then?” Salminen asked with a giggle.

“I don’t believe in ghosts. Only badly decorated houses and this place is one of them. I’m getting tired of this bullshit.” Without hesitation or warning Mäkinen snatched both dolls off the shelf and crushes them onto the floor. Heavy boots trample over them, pulverizing the dolls completely out of existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the endig is a bit clear ><

**Author's Note:**

> In fact, i hate/fear dolls but there's always a certain beauty in your fears, right?


End file.
